


Scars and Stars

by sirenspell



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Self Loathing, Trigger warning mention of self harm, Trigger warning scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 23:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16861969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenspell/pseuds/sirenspell
Summary: This was a request on my Tumblr:@g00dl13  Hello… Can you please write a story about Reader and Thorin… Reader(reader insecure about her body she thinks that scars on women are ugly. But she takes a bath in a lake and Thorin sees her scars





	Scars and Stars

After a long day of riding, there was a collective sigh of relief when Thorin halted his pony and ordered for everyone to unpack and begin setting up camp for the night. So with tried grumbles and a few pony’s snorts, everyone set to work. 

A fire started, Bombur began to cook a stew, and bedrolls laid out. Nearby a river, you decided to go wash, after gathering firewood for the night. It had been too long since you had felt clean. Telling Balin you would be right back, you wandered down the short path to the bank of the river, only to stop. Thorin followed behind you, you blinked confusion clear in your gaze.

“I told Balin where I was going you don’t have to watch over me.” You called over your shoulder. A bit annoyed that Thorin thought so little of your fighting abilities. He huffed,

“Everyone gets a watch when they go off on their own (Y/N).” You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight him on it. You stopped at the river’s edge, you turned back to Thorin. 

“Turn around,” he rolled his eyes but did as he was told. You waited, his back fully turned you stuck out your tongue for good measure. And smirked before unlacing your traveling dress. Thick wool meant to keep out the cold, and a short slitted skirt easier for fighting and riding a pony. Letting that fall away you unlaced the beeches you wore with the dress. The river wasn’t too wide but you felt it was best to stick to the banks. 

With a suppressed shiver you step into the slow current wading into about knee depth, everything seemed when something brushed against your leg. Something scaley and alive that when it touched your leg it wriggled away tail slapping your shin. You froze, heart in your throat before letting out a high pitched shriek before you could calm down Thorin was there, sword in hand and arm pushing you behind him. 

You blink for a moment, as does Thorin. Before he turns to you, a sparkle of…humor in his eyes. You feel heat blooming on your cheeks as you flush in both embarrassment and, something else you don’t want to acknowledge. 

“I–I,” You sputtered your gaze looking anywhere but Thorin, who now stands with a small smirk on his lips. 

“It was a fish…” You finally manage out Thorin to his credit doesn’t laugh,

“Well, fish can be quite frightening.” He chuckles, but he moves to trudge out of the water when your hand reaches up to touch his shoulder in thanks. He stops in the dim light he sees it the raised lines of flesh on your arm. Scars, some tiny white and delicate you can barely see them. Others are still red and raised. The flesh still healing even after stitches removed and scabs peeled away.

You move to snatch your hand away but his hand latches on to your wrist. Unblinking he stares at your arms and you feel that familiar gut-wrenching feeling of…embaressment? Self-hatred? Loathing…At this point a mixture of the three wage war in your mind. 

“What happened?” He whispers so low you almost don’t hear him, he looks up at you with those blue eyes. And you look away muttering,

“Weakness…” His grip tightens slightly not to hurt but he slowly pulls you closer.

“Scars mean very different things to our peoples it would seem.” He lifts your arm up to his face, you think to better inspect them, but he shocks you as his lips brush lightly over one of the worst ones. The kiss is tender and you feel his lips the scratch of his beard on your flesh and your knees feel weak. Against your flesh, he whispers.

“Scars are strength, they mean you survive. That you fought battles and won. They are more beautiful then tattoos, adornments. A warrior with scars has fought hard for them, no matter the circumstance.” Tears fill your eyes at his words, he meets your gaze and slowly he peppers kisses, slow and soft up your arm you shiver not at the cold but the sensation his lips are warm the tip of his nose brushes against you every now and again. Finally, he reaches your face and he stops lips hovering above your own. 

You hesitate for only a moment before pressing yourself against him, relishing in the taste of Thorin. The feel of him against you his arms around you protective and warm. You feel the tears stream down your cheeks and he pulls away brushing the warm trails away. 

“No tears amrâl.” He smiles warmly and your heart flutters beneath your ribs. You cup his face and for once your eyes aren’t drawn to the scars. They’re drawn to the stars in his eyes.


End file.
